Bread is a staple of the Czech diet. Good bread, homemade bread that is fresh every day at your local village bakery. But if it is not fresh as in one or two days old it is simply not acceptable on most Czech dinner tables. I eat a lot of not so fresh bread, I don't mind so much when it starts to become a "natural pretzel". You know that Czechs invented the pretzel, or so they tell me, then again some English men once tried to also convince me that they invented the Hershey bar. Anyhow, when my bread passes through the pretzel stage into the stone phase I take it to the birds. We live in a village called Branik. From Prague castle if you follow the path along river 3 miles south you would find our little village and no doubt you would also come upon the little stone steps into the river where we feed the birds. Today was a great day for it the sun was out and there was plenty of bread and birds. The two resident swans control the gatherings, which would turn into a squawking nightmare if it were left to the seagulls. The wood-ducks and mallards know the rules and keep to them pretty well as long as the swans are setting the dignified standard, although when left unsupervised with the gulls they can get a little rowdy as well. We try to divide the bread unbiased by species and it was, as always, an enjoyable experience for all involved. Afterwards, a short walk through the village and up onto the train bridge across the river. Its beautiful up there looking down on the river watching yellow and red leaves swim in huge schools through the green ripples of the Vltava river. On the other side of the bridge is a small village that contains a mineral spring. The village used to be a spa for healing in the last century and is now just a quiet, overgrown entrance to the massive forest it sits on the edge of. Just inside the forest, a large mineral pool still holds its water and now colored leaves float instead of ailing tourist. There is still a place where you can get a drink and fill your bottle but the pool is closed. After a short walk to the top of the hill overlooking the city we made our way slowly back to the village where some candles lit in the old church caught our eyes and curiosity, churches are always open here and always old and lovely. This one was no exception, small and lovely. In fact we stayed until they were about to begin the evening worship service and as we were leaving were told we could stay and observe if we so desired. I looked up at that moment to try to think of a polite way to smile and disappear that's when I saw my symbol was part of this churches steeple. The symbol I'm referring to as 'mine' is the one I wear around my neck, and if you still don't know, never mind. I decided to have a closer look. They shut the doors and we were 2 of the 11 people in attendance. Outside the door I heard a cat make 3 loud meows and then saw its shadow sit by the crack under the door. The service was mostly in Latin which I understood almost as faintly as the other half in Czech, but it was interesting and the people were friendly, and the priest wore running shoes under his official green robes and crests that for some reason made me feel more comfortable. However, after about 20 minutes we decided it was time to respectfully leave this pious affair to the pious. As I walked out the door I instinctually looked down, saw, and picked up a very tiny, very black, very stinky kitten. He had found his way to the steps of the church in a last ditch attempt at survival of the fittest and there his faith had paid off, for when I picked him up he claimed me and when I put him down he climbed right back up on my shoe explaining to me all the time that I chose him first and now I just had to deal with it. Back  across the river now and back in my little home eating a roll of fresh bread while the young master "Gato" the newest resident  of our little home sleeps comfortably in his banana box.